Splintering
by Basilisk9466
Summary: A corporate mercenary's job is never simple, especially not when it comes to derelict research ships. But the Cottonmouth's fate is not cut and dried... and nor is the xenomorph hidden aboard...
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own Alien, yada yada yada... this is a short work that I was inspired to write about one of my favourite character ideas. No cameos from all the old favourites in the Hades Chronicles, but it's still the same universe... and there are one or two hints of things to come from that quarter._

* * *

"Still no response to hails, sir. Just the distress beacon."

Lieutenant Kadr glared through the forward porthole as though the drifting ship visible there had personally offended him. "Anything more on scanners?"

"It's in perfect order, sir. All systems seem OK, power is running fine... they're just not responding."

Kadr looked over at the distinguished-looking elderly man standing at the rear of the bridge. "Well, Professor, here's your runaway. What are your orders?"

Professor Avermann cleared his throat gently, as though just reminding everyone that he was, indeed, in charge. "Dock with it and find out what happened," he said in a dry, wheezy voice. "After all, that is why we're here. The _Cottonmouth_ is highly valuable to Mortech Industries. Or rather, the research aboard it is."

Kadr shrugged vaguely. He didn't give a damn what was valuable to Mortech Industries, so long as they paid well. In the aftermath of the infestation of Earth and the mysterious way that hives kept materialising on colonies, mercenary work was far better than simply enlisting in the military. If it meant associating with some shady types, who cared? "Do as the man says," he ordered. "And get teams one through three ready in the airlock, full combat gear." He glanced around at Avermann. "Professor, I wouldn't recommend joining the expedition until we're sure that it's safe."

Avermann glanced at him haughtily before returning his gaze to the derelict form of the _Cottonmouth_. "I am, of course, too valuable an officer to be risked in this case, yes. My assistants will, however, be joining you to ensure that you don't miss anything important."

Kadr left the bridge, and gave the scientist the finger to his back. Avermann ground his nerves. The lower ranking Mortech officials on the _Morphite Seeker_ weren't much better, generally looking down their noses at the mercs. So be it. At least he didn't have Doctor Ryekamann on board; most Mortech personnel irritated him, but Ryekamann was scary. He knew for a fact that one of his fellow mercs, a rock solid son of a bitch with a mean streak a mile wide and a temperament that allowed him to shoot babies quite happily, had been found blubbing in his cell after a lone meeting with Ryekamann after a botched op.

Kadr sighed. Mortech paid well, they knew when mercs could solve the situation, and they had a pristine record compared to some of the other supercompanies out there. What more could a soldier ask for?

The _Morphite Seeker_ juddered slightly as it connected with the _Cottonmouth_. Kadr rounded the corner and came upon the airlocks, where fifteen assorted psychos, rednecks and dropouts with large weapons and aggressive postures were waiting. To one side, two somewhat more refined figures were standing and looking at the mercenaries with faintly nervous expressions.

"Mr. Tybrin, Miss Vandros," said Kadr with a faint smile. Two of the more bearable Mortech representatives as chaperones, and the prospect of possible action to get away from the stuffiness of the Mortech cruiser. The day was looking up. He raised his voice. "All right, scumbags! Do I see combat formation? No, I do _not_ see combat formation. Get in position!"

There was an excited roar of acknowledgements, and the men and women split into the three five-man teams.

"Now, you know the drill! Our wonderful employers have had one of their ships fucked up, and now we've got to find out what did the fucking up. But, our wonderful employers also want the ship intact, so if I see anyone so much as look funny at a picture you don't like, I'm putting you on report! Got it?"

"YES, SIR!"

Kadr gestured at Tybrin and Vandros. "These two upstanding citizens will be joining us, so if they get munched by some space monster while you're having a light-up in a quiet corner, then I won't be happy! Clear?"

"YES, SIR!"

Kadr tapped a command code into the wall-mounted armoury next to the airlock, and pulled out a snub-nosed carbine. "Well? What you waiting for, ya lazy fuckers? Get in there! Team two, you've been slacking on training, you have point! Team one, cover the rear. Three, you lucky sods get guard duty on the airlock! Move out, soldiers!" He leaned over to the two Mortech personnel. "Just stay in the middle, and if you see something moving where nothing should move, yell. Got it?"

Vandros nodded. "Got it, lieutenant. What do you think did this?"

Kadr rolled his eyes. "How the hell should I know? I haven't even seen inside yet." Shouldering the carbine, he strode into the _Cottonmouth_, Tybrin and Vandros close behind.

"Whatever it was could be shot at, sir," called a merc. He gestured at the ceiling.

Kadr looked up. Numerous holes were visible in the metal and through the lights, creating an oddly threatening atmosphere, with regions of bright light and twilight alternating along the corridor in both directions from the _Cottonmouth_'s airlock.

"Acid marks?" Tybrin asked.

The merc, all business now, shook his head. "Not here, anyway. If it was a bug, then it must have been fast to avoid getting hit in this confined area."

Kadr looked piercingly at Tybrin. "You know something we don't? What were they researching on this boat?"

Tybrin shrugged. "I honestly don't know, lieutenant. _Cottonmouth_ spent a couple of weeks beyond charted space, looking at the ecology of a planet that seemed to have had a xenomorph population there for some time. That's all I know. I just thought that they might have brought specimens back..."

A large man carrying a hefty smartgun spat. "You and your specimens," he sneered. "You're real good at making work for us."

Kadr barked at him to shut up, and the merc obeyed. Tybrin glanced at Kadr ruefully. "I fear he might have a point, though. If there's one thing we've learned about xenomorphs in the decades that we've known of the species, it's that they're damned hard to contain."

Kadr shrugged as though the comment meant nothing, though it was refreshing to have that kind of opinion expressed by someone from Mortech. "You heard the man. Keep a careful eye out, we might have bugs."

It was the same pattern everywhere. Bullet holes, broken lights. But no acid spills, no bodies, no blood.

Kadr called a halt, and pulled out the datapad carrying a schematic of the ship. "We've covered the corridors and secondary systems. We should head for the bridge next, see if we can get any answers from the computer records."

"May I suggest a small detour?" said Vandros. She pointed at a small side-area marked 'holding cells'. "If they were carrying any live specimens, that's where they would have been kept."

Kadr checked the route, and nodded. It wasn't far off course. "Stay on your toes, mercs..."

They rounded a corner, and someone swore colourfully. The hatchway that led to the high-security holding area had been pockmarked with unmistakeable acid damage and bullet holes. On the other side of the corridor, in a perfect firing position at the hatchway, two eviscerated bodies lay in massive patches of dried blood and gore.

Tybrin went slightly green, and hurriedly looked away from the bodies. One of the mercs moved over to check the corpses, and looked up with a grim expression. "If the acid ain't enough, these wounds prove it. We're in bug central."

Kadr checked the carbine, and clicked the safety off. "Anything on motion trackers?" Someone grunted a negative. "Then let's go in. Miss Vandros, if you'll do the honours with the access panel?"

Vandros delicately stepped over to the imposing control panel, and tapped in an override. The hatchway ground half-open, then stopped, jammed by a section melted out of shape by acid.

Kadr ducked through, weapon scanning the area. He froze as he saw his surroundings.

The holding room was long and quite thin, with transparent cells lining it on either side. They extended for quite a way, with at least thirty cells in total. The angles blocked him from seeing all the way to the end, but in every cell that he could see, the burned corpse of a xenomorph drone lay. Scattered along the room were dead human forms, torn apart.

Tybrin followed him, and his jaw dropped.

"Guess they did have specimens," Kadr commented dryly. The Alien corpses were all contorted in their last death throes, some still clawing at the transparent entrances to their cells, others on their backs as though they had been on the ceiling.

"Standard termination procedure," said Vandros coolly, surveying the slaughter as the rest of the mercenaries filed inside. "The _Cottonmouth_ had incinerator units installed in all the cells, to be activated in case of potential escape of dangerous subjects."

"Sir!" barked one of the mercs. "Movement, from one of the cells. At the end."

Kadr checked the carbine, and advanced cautiously down the row of cells. All of them had the same burned, dead drone.

Except the last three.

Two were empty, the transparent doors opened wide.

The last one contained the hunched form of a drone. A live one.

Kadr raised the carbine to aim at the drone, but made no move to fire. Tybrin moved over to his side.

"Wonder why this one was left alive?" Tybrin commented.

The drone flinched, and unfolded. Kadr noted that the propotions were slightly odd, slightly different from those he was used to in a xenomorph... and then its head turned.

Its eyes opened.

Kadr stared. Xenomorphs didn't have eyes – it was a simple fact! God knew how they saw without them, or if they saw at all, but bugs didn't have eyes. Yet here was one with eyes... oddly human eyes...

A quiet, scared female voice echoed into their minds. Are you here to rescue me? Please, I think everyone else is dead... the drones killed them all... 

Kadr jumped, and stared even harder at the apparition. "Was that you?"

Yes! Put that gun down, I'm no threat to you. It was the others... all the others... the _normal_ ones... they killed all the men. I've been so scared... poor little Splinter, left in her cell, flinching at every noise... the drones hate me just as much as they hate you! Please say that you're here to rescue me... 


	2. Chapter 2

_Cottonmouth Bridge_

"**This was a _shambles_," barked the hologram. "In, out, capture a few bugs, no casualties."**

"Who's that?" whispered Kadr.

"Alexei Olin, commander of the _Cottonmouth_," replied Tybrin.

"**But sir..." the unfortunate officer said. "It got us another bug. She got facehugged, not killed. We still benefit."**

"**_That's not the point!_" roared Olin. "I gave you strict orders – keep the scientists safe! Especially Ashley Ryltan!"**

Vandros winced. "That's why he's so worked up. Ashley was his fiancé."

Tybrin fiddled with the controls, and the hologram went into fast-forward. "I'm trying to find information specifically on this 'Splinter'... ah, here's the next reference."

**The new recording showed Olin and white-coated figure. "You wanted to see me?" grunted Olin.**

**White-coat nodded. "We've been monitoring Miss Ryltan and found something odd with the embryo." He pointed to a screen. "What do you see?"**

Kadr frowned. "Can you focus on the screen?"

Tybrin pressed several controls, and a separate hologram showing the screen appeared. A bioscan of a half-grown chestburster was visible.

"**A parasite," said Olin snidely. "What about it?" The screen zoomed in on the chestburster's head. He peered at the screen, and then gasped.**

"**I know, it goes against everything we know about xenomorphs," the scientist continued. "But there's no doubt. That's an eye. We've scanned it, and aside from the usual acidity of the flesh, it's remarkably human in structure. At this early stage of development, it's hard to tell more... but you can see that this is no ordinary drone."**

"**Any theories?" asked Olin, abruptly fascinated.**

"**Yes," White-coat said, tapping several controls. "Compare these two DNA sequences." The bioscan was replaced by said sequences. "This sequence has several sections missing. It's from a normal xenomorph – of course, the actual creatures don't have this. It's a projection based on the structure generated by the 'chestburster virus' injected by a facehugger. The virus integrates sections of host DNA to complete the sequence. Now look at this one."**

**Olin nodded. "There's more missing."**

"**Normally about one percent is missing from the sequence, with more open to being replaced depending on the qualities of the host DNA. This second sequence is extrapolated from remnants extracted from the facehugger that implanted Miss Ryltan. There's nearly ten percent missing, and when we scanned the chestburster, we found that it is nearly twenty-five percent human. Only the eye has shown through, but when it matures, we may find many more differences."**

**Olin nodded slowly. "How did this occur? Is this a natural part of the local xenomorphs, do you think?"**

"**To some extent. I suspect that it is a mutation; a genetic aberration. I don't think that she's unique, but I suspect that it is a very rare anomaly. Whether it is an aspect of only these xenomorphs, or could occur with any of the species, I'm not sure." White-coat paused. "There is something else. Normally the host has awoken by this time. Miss Ryltan has not, and if the predictions are correct, she will never wake up. She's slipping deeper into a coma-like state, and we're not sure why."**

"**Oh, Ashley..." murmured Olin. "Keep me informed."**

Tybrin played with the controls again. "It doesn't look like there are any recordings about the drone for a while, just a few reports. Listen to this: 'Miss Ryltan did not awaken even when the chestburster emerged; indeed, there was no mental activity to suggest that she even felt it.'"

"Unusual," said Kadr darkly. He'd seen too many fellow soldiers 'giving birth' to the next generation of the enemy to have much time for such dry observations.

"Here's the next entry," said Vandros. "'Subject E-01 has demonstrated Beta-like telepathic capabilities. Mr. Olin's presence requested.'"

Tybrin flicked the controls, and a new hologram appeared, this one of the holding cells. Aggressive snarls from the drones instantly filled the bridge. The image was focused on the end cell, where a familiar figure was visible. Olin stood in front of the transparent cell door, with several armed soldiers and a couple of scientists.

"**You wanted to see me?" said Olin coldly. "My scientists have informed me that you're no ordinary drone. As far as I'm concerned, you're just another test subject, one that hatched from someone I was very... close to."**

**Text scrolled along the bottom of the hologram, evidently a transcript of the drone's words. _I'm sorry. I couldn't choose who brought me into the world. But she's not dead._**

**Olin laughed. "Oh?"**

_**She lives on in me. Your scientists have told me all about how I'm not normal, how I took more qualities than normal from my host. But it's not just physical qualities... I have memories as well. My form is different, my mind is different, but on some level, I **_**am****_ Ashley Ryltan._**

**Olin looked piercingly at the drone. "Prove it."**

_**You met her... me... two years, three months and seven days ago. The twenty-third of October. We had been assigned to oversee the effectiveness of a new type of ammunition being produced by one of Mortech's contractors. On the twenty-fifth, you found the courage to ask me out. On the twenty-eighth... would you like me to go on?**_

**Olin was breathing hard. "No," he said softly. "It's really you, isn't it..."**

_**Yes.**_

Tybrin paused the recording. "That's it for the high-priority information. Beyond that, we'll have to strain through the recordings manually."

"But what happened to the _Cottonmouth_?" asked Kadr impatiently. "That's what's important."

Tybrin gave him a grim look. "We don't know."

"What do you mean?"

Vandros walked over to an alcove in the bridge, and pulled the door open. The computer core was revealed, and with it, the damage. "Apparently it got caught in the crossfire," she said. "Carbine fire and acid melting has erased about half the data, including all the most recent stuff. We've got no way of knowing what happened. Apart from the fact that one of the drones is no longer a problem." She indicated a massive hole in the floor and the limp black tail poking up from it.

"Wonderful," snarled Kadr. He reached for his radio and clicked it on. "Holding area, how's the drone?"

"She's fine, sir," the radio crackled. "Gone a bit quiet."

"She?" Kadr growled. "It's an it, soldier."

"Not if ya check her undercarriage, sir, if you get my meaning..." The soldier sniggered faintly.

Kadr raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're getting the hots for a bug. Keep me informed, unless the answer to that question was yes, in which case I don't want to know. Kadr out." He clicked off the radio.

The radio clicked again almost immediately. "Team one here, sir. We've finished our sweep of the corridors. We've found plenty of dead bodies, and it looks like the airlock has been cycled. It's possible that they managed to blow some bugs out into space."

Kadr glanced at the limp tail in the computer alcove. "Copy, team one. Keep patrolling just in case, but that might be all of them dealt with. Keep me informed. Kadr out."

"Sounds like your catchphrase," said Vandros.

"Does, doesn't it? I'm going to report to Avermann. Keep me informed."

* * *

_Cottonmouth Holding Area_

"...Kadr out."

The mercenary clicked the radio off and turned to look at his charge again.

She was the same as ever, curled up cat-like in a corner of the cell. As though feeling his gaze, an eye opened and observed him back.

A chill ran down the soldier's spine. There was none of the submissive terror in there that he had seen when they'd first entered the cellblock. It had been replaced by easy confidence, as though she was in complete control.

The other eye opened and she uncurled from her foetal position. Lips parted, and a thin snake-like tongue flicked out as she watched him intently.

It was startling how human she looked, the soldier thought vaguely. "What are you looking at?" he growled, the stare beginning to unnerve him.

The hybrid made no response, but prowled to the front of the cell, almost seeming to flow rather than walk. Still those dark, iridescent green eyes bored into him.

The radio clicked. "Sound off, people," crackled the sergeant. "Can't have anyone going missing without us knowing."

The soldier responded when it came to his name, and turned back to the cell.

She was back in her corner, as though she'd never moved.

Had he imagined it? This place was dark enough, and the threat of rogue bugs could set anyone on edge.

He watched her for several minutes, but this time there was no response from the apparently sleeping xenomorph.

_Must've imagined it._

But the memory of those cool, calculating eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

* * *

"Sir..." said Kadr, summoning up all his experience of dealing with Mortech, "I really wouldn't recommend it."

Avermann looked at Kadr as though he were a particularly interesting beetle. "Why not, lieutenant?" he said. The scientist coughed abruptly, and pulled out an inhaler from the depths of his coat before sucking on it noisily.

"Sir, one of the xenomorphs is confirmed dead, but there could still be one out there," said Kadr, waiting for another coughing fit to subside. _Wonder if those drugs actually do anything? He always sounds worse after using them._ "With the recent computer records lost, there's no way of being sure short of going over the entire ship. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that that's not a small job. With only twenty men, covering something the size of the _Cottonmouth_ and being sure that nothing has slipped past us isn't really possible. What I'm saying, sir, is that I can't guarantee your safety. Those two xenomorphs apparently wiped out the entire crew single-handed. We can keep the _Seeker_ secure, but I wouldn't like to make any promises about the _Cottonmouth_."

"I understand your... concerns," said Avermann. "However... you have all of the advantages here. The unfortunate men of the _Cottonmouth_ were evidently... caught off guard. You know that there might still be a xenomorph out there, and have the firepower to handle it. I think that the dangers are not excessive. Besides, as I said, I am curious about this live specimen."

Kadr nodded unhappily. He knew from personal experience that sometimes, in a restricted space like a ship, all the weaponry in the world couldn't stop a fast drone before it did real damage.

"Do you have any... theories about what happened to the ship?" said Avermann.

Kadr hesitated, then shook his head. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Too convenient. Nearly thirty drones killed off in their cells, then two escape without a scratch on the cell doors? Gunfire everywhere, but the only hits are around the place they initially escaped from? Dead bodies in big clumps? _Cottonmouth_ is a much larger vessel than the _Seeker_, they had a bigger complement of soldiers, weapons and security systems."

"But you do... have a theory," said Avermann pointedly.

"I would prefer to get some more information before I make wild guesses, sir," replied Kadr stoicly.

Avermann gave him a piercing look, and Kadr suddenly saw not a blustering, stubborn old scientist, but a razor-sharp middle-aged businessman. _Appearances are important among the supercompanies,_ he thought.

The façade slid into place again and Avermann nodded. "I'm sure you know best, lieutenant. Now, I believe we have a ship to visit?"


End file.
